History lessons and lessens
Sep. 5th, 2006 05:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shalannaMy mother just hung up after getting exasperated with her friend Blinky (one of her Stitch'n'Bitch cohorts--they talk daily.) "Blinky got mad at me because I couldn't tell her off the top of my head which Presidents were Democrats and Republicans."
I paused. "Say what?"
"Blinky's son brought home this chart of the Presidents and their terms in office, and she wants to go through and mark which were Democrats and which were Republicans so she can see which side she's really on."
I couldn't help wincing.
"And," Mama continued, "she got mad at me. She kept asking, 'Which was George Warshington [sic]?'" (Not my mother's mispronunciation, but her representation of her friend's Midwestern accent.)
"George Washington was a Federalist." I gave up trying to tune the zither* and picked up the dog, who was circling and sniffing (and would soon be "hiking" on the table leg.) "She could look it up on the Internet."
* [Actually, I was making the foul gruel that passes for dinner around here, but tuning the zither sounds so much more romantic for purposes of the anecdote. Call it creative license.]
"She was trying to make me tell her which was which. She hates the computer. So what were the others?"
Once again, I am called into service as a walking encyclopedia, or at least a deck of Trivial Pursuit Baby Boomer/Classics cards flying in formation. Red Baron at two o'clock! "Well . . . Abraham Lincoln was the first Republican president. Before that, that party was called the Democratic-Republicans when it was the choice of Thomas Jefferson and of James Madison, the guy you have to thank for the Fifth Amendment. The Federalist papers were written when they were hashing everything out--some people identified with the Brithsh parties that started out as Whigs and Tories, and then later on there were the Populists and the Mugwumps . . . I always thought it'd be fun to be a Mugwump." I was winging it. "The Civil War brought about a different definition for each party, if I remember correctly. And then after World War II things changed again. And then recently, too. You need to look at the timeline to get the picture."
"Who was the first Democrat?"
"Woodrow Wilson was the first modern Democrat--in a sense. I suppose Andrew Jackson was the first one elected under that party label, but Wilson is the one who was a visionary and came up with the League of Nations, among other things. But Franklin D. Roosevelt created a new platform with the New Deal, and the Democratic party that endured until recently was descended from that. In the past few years, the lines have blurred. Democrats are no longer our Daddy's Democrats. And of course what passes for a Republican today is often NOT a Republican at all, but a NeoCon. Except for my boyfriend Pat." (Pat Buchanan. Whenever he comes on MSNBC, she yells, "Your boyfriend's on!" If Ron Reagan comes on, she yells, "Your sweetie's on!" I find it mind-boggling that I agree with most of what BOTH of them say.) "But anyhow, it's difficult to explain."
"There's got to be a list. She doesn't know anything about American history."
I was sure I had at least some of that stuff wrong, too. "I don't want to punt. Why doesn't Blinky get her son to look that up on the Web? There'll be a chart somewhere. Probably several. Tell her to compare for accuracy."
I heard her muttering as she shuffled back towards her telephone corner.
But it was heartening to hear that somebody was actually interested in studying history in order to learn from it and to try to draw some conclusions. Especially Blinky, a sixty-something woman who spent her career as a baker and doughnut maker and who always said she didn't want to talk about intellectual stuff . . . until a couple of years ago when she retired. Now she's switching that part of her brain on, and she and Mama keep their cable TVs tuned to news channels for most of the day. Even though that nonstop drone from the other room drives me bats . . . I still have to say, "Huzzah!"
! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
How's my diet going, you might ask? My body thinks we're back in Ireland during the famine and the English have taken away the potatoes. Just one of my fat cells could power the city's grid for at least a week before needing a recharge. I went by the Rec Center this morning to see about signing up for "Weight Training for Women" (not a teaching course in how to scold your fat until it is trained, but a class in which you work on the weightlifting machines, a scary lot), but left my phone number for the instructor instead . . . they told me that he offers individual coaching at around the same rate as one class. I'm kind of scared of the machines anyhow, as those weights look heavy.
And I can't go to bellydance class tonight. I dropped a (large) can of green beans on the top of my right foot this morning, and it's all "swole up" (as Nana would say) and painful. Been icing it and elevating it. Hope nothing's broken. I don't THINK so, but you never know. *sigh*
I did, however, get my $10 hip scarf* that I scored on eBay in today's mail. I wrapped it around my butt. It does cover the expanse, but it might as well be a banner reading "WIDE LOAD." Not flattering, though the coins rattle and jingle and make the dog bark (looking, no doubt, for the scentless Other Dog whose collar tags must be making that jingly noise!) "I got a butt that jingle, jangle, jingles." (Apologies to the "Spurs" songwriter.)
* (Yes! Only $10! But the shipping/handling/postage fee was also $10. I also ordered a veil. It should be here soon. Then I'll be all decked out to be the Limping Belly Dancer. The half-orc belly dancer, more like.)
I paused. "Say what?"
"Blinky's son brought home this chart of the Presidents and their terms in office, and she wants to go through and mark which were Democrats and which were Republicans so she can see which side she's really on."
I couldn't help wincing.
"And," Mama continued, "she got mad at me. She kept asking, 'Which was George Warshington [sic]?'" (Not my mother's mispronunciation, but her representation of her friend's Midwestern accent.)
"George Washington was a Federalist." I gave up trying to tune the zither* and picked up the dog, who was circling and sniffing (and would soon be "hiking" on the table leg.) "She could look it up on the Internet."
* [Actually, I was making the foul gruel that passes for dinner around here, but tuning the zither sounds so much more romantic for purposes of the anecdote. Call it creative license.]
"She was trying to make me tell her which was which. She hates the computer. So what were the others?"
Once again, I am called into service as a walking encyclopedia, or at least a deck of Trivial Pursuit Baby Boomer/Classics cards flying in formation. Red Baron at two o'clock! "Well . . . Abraham Lincoln was the first Republican president. Before that, that party was called the Democratic-Republicans when it was the choice of Thomas Jefferson and of James Madison, the guy you have to thank for the Fifth Amendment. The Federalist papers were written when they were hashing everything out--some people identified with the Brithsh parties that started out as Whigs and Tories, and then later on there were the Populists and the Mugwumps . . . I always thought it'd be fun to be a Mugwump." I was winging it. "The Civil War brought about a different definition for each party, if I remember correctly. And then after World War II things changed again. And then recently, too. You need to look at the timeline to get the picture."
"Who was the first Democrat?"
"Woodrow Wilson was the first modern Democrat--in a sense. I suppose Andrew Jackson was the first one elected under that party label, but Wilson is the one who was a visionary and came up with the League of Nations, among other things. But Franklin D. Roosevelt created a new platform with the New Deal, and the Democratic party that endured until recently was descended from that. In the past few years, the lines have blurred. Democrats are no longer our Daddy's Democrats. And of course what passes for a Republican today is often NOT a Republican at all, but a NeoCon. Except for my boyfriend Pat." (Pat Buchanan. Whenever he comes on MSNBC, she yells, "Your boyfriend's on!" If Ron Reagan comes on, she yells, "Your sweetie's on!" I find it mind-boggling that I agree with most of what BOTH of them say.) "But anyhow, it's difficult to explain."
"There's got to be a list. She doesn't know anything about American history."
I was sure I had at least some of that stuff wrong, too. "I don't want to punt. Why doesn't Blinky get her son to look that up on the Web? There'll be a chart somewhere. Probably several. Tell her to compare for accuracy."
I heard her muttering as she shuffled back towards her telephone corner.
But it was heartening to hear that somebody was actually interested in studying history in order to learn from it and to try to draw some conclusions. Especially Blinky, a sixty-something woman who spent her career as a baker and doughnut maker and who always said she didn't want to talk about intellectual stuff . . . until a couple of years ago when she retired. Now she's switching that part of her brain on, and she and Mama keep their cable TVs tuned to news channels for most of the day. Even though that nonstop drone from the other room drives me bats . . . I still have to say, "Huzzah!"
How's my diet going, you might ask? My body thinks we're back in Ireland during the famine and the English have taken away the potatoes. Just one of my fat cells could power the city's grid for at least a week before needing a recharge. I went by the Rec Center this morning to see about signing up for "Weight Training for Women" (not a teaching course in how to scold your fat until it is trained, but a class in which you work on the weightlifting machines, a scary lot), but left my phone number for the instructor instead . . . they told me that he offers individual coaching at around the same rate as one class. I'm kind of scared of the machines anyhow, as those weights look heavy.
And I can't go to bellydance class tonight. I dropped a (large) can of green beans on the top of my right foot this morning, and it's all "swole up" (as Nana would say) and painful. Been icing it and elevating it. Hope nothing's broken. I don't THINK so, but you never know. *sigh*
I did, however, get my $10 hip scarf* that I scored on eBay in today's mail. I wrapped it around my butt. It does cover the expanse, but it might as well be a banner reading "WIDE LOAD." Not flattering, though the coins rattle and jingle and make the dog bark (looking, no doubt, for the scentless Other Dog whose collar tags must be making that jingly noise!) "I got a butt that jingle, jangle, jingles." (Apologies to the "Spurs" songwriter.)
* (Yes! Only $10! But the shipping/handling/postage fee was also $10. I also ordered a veil. It should be here soon. Then I'll be all decked out to be the Limping Belly Dancer. The half-orc belly dancer, more like.)
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no subject
Date: 2006-09-05 11:10 pm (UTC)As implied by the LJ entry I just wrote, I grieve for the Republican party as it existed in Barry Goldwater's day.
no subject
Date: 2006-09-06 12:45 pm (UTC)Historical politics--they're always weirder than we think.
The first modern Democrat president
Date: 2006-09-07 03:13 am (UTC)Woodrow Wilson -- 1914 seems a little late for a "modern" president of any stripe. I'll give him this, though: He was as close to a legitimate Confederate president as we ever got, so if you ever wonder what life in the United States would have been like if the South had won, check out the Wilson Adminiistration.